


A Quiet Place to Rest

by Pyraa



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Flashbacks, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, On the Run, One Shot, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26395969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyraa/pseuds/Pyraa
Summary: “How long have you known?” Niylah in turn gave her a small smile. “How long have you been coming here?”Clarke looked at her for a long moment before giving her a small grateful nod, then turned around to grab her supplies on the counter.“I would wait.” The sudden switch to English had her stop short.  She looked up at Niylah, surprised again.Following Clarkes arc in Season 3x01closely. Filling the fade out and giving this small part of Clarkes journy the attention it deserves.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Niylah
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	A Quiet Place to Rest

She was cold. From her place up on the sturdy tree branch she kept her eyes on the surrounding area. Every once in a while her gaze flickered back to the bunny she had bound to the pole beneath her feet. Clarke tried to keep her mind from wandering, to be alert, but the last days and weeks had left her exhausted and sore. The stiffness in her muscles from the hours spent crammed in the same position had here acing. She had been hiding in this spot for the better part of the day. The mud she used to cover up her own smell had dried and cracked on her skin and clothes, but it at least it seemed to hold the chilled wind at bay. Caused by the monotony of the wait she felt her mind drift. _Steel and concrete corridors, the control room, her panic. Bellamys hand covering hers on the cold metal switch. “Together”. The screams, the smell of burned flesh, a small body barely recognizable. The feeling of utter helplessness, forcing her hand._

A rustling of leaves below, snapped her out of the memories and had adrenalin rushing through her veins. She spotted the black cat hiding in the overgrowth to her left. Suddenly all thoughts zeroed in on the hunter below her. Every fiber of her body on high alert, Clarke watched the big black cat stalk closer to the bunny. Mirroring the predator below, her muscles tightened, ready to pounce. Her mind clear and focused as it only ever seemed to be in those moments. A calm washed over her as prepared herself for the jump. Knuckles turning white around the heel of the knife in her hand. The moment the cat jumped, she did too. Her feet pushier off the branch, the blade stuck out in front of her. She missed her target, just by a fraction. Not hit the neck, but the cats shoulder. It threw her off with an angry roar. Clarke landed on her back, getting the wind knocked out of her. Her opponent hissed and starting to charge at her, before she could get back on her feet. With no time to get away she did the only thing she could. She pushed her knife out in front of her. Clarke felt the massive cat colliding with her knife, the brute force of the collision pushing her outstretched arms back against her torso, trapping her beneath the beast. She felt its claws tearing into her shoulder. Pain soaring down here back and arm. The cat twisted and growled above her. Her face pressed into the fur as she struggled to breathe, to push the attacker away. She felt the cat still above her, felt herself being crushed under the deadweight and it took all her strength to push the lifeless body off. Clarke stayed on the ground trying to get fresh air in her lungs and her eyes focused on the gently swaying leaves above her. She closed her eyes for a second, taking a last deep breath before she pushed herself up into a kneel turning to the now unmoving cat next to her. She pulled her knife out of its chest and stroked the soft black fur with the other hand. “ _Yu gonplei ste odon.“_ The let her head fall on its flank, feeling its warms seep into her and willing her heart to stop racing.

With every passing second she calmed down, her limbs began to tremble and her teeth started to chatter. Exhaustion and pain seeping into her consciousness as the adrenalin wore off. Clarke felt tears stinging her eyes. She sat back up pushing herself to get moving, to not think or feel. She could not afford to break down right now. Clarke got to work strapping the cat onto the stretcher she’d hidden in the nearby bushes, shouldered her pack holding her few belongings onto her back and started her march, pulling the bounty behind her.

After what felt like hours, she could made out a house in the distance. She stopped, ducked away from the small path and leaned against a tree. Now all she could do was waiting. She kept her eyes on the trading outpost, trying to make out any signs of life.

She had heard about the bounty on her head about two months ago. They called her “Wanheda”, the commander of death. Clarke could not afford to be seen by other people, even with her grounders clothes and with the dirt of the last months covering her. She even tried dying her hair, with a mixture of plants and red algae from the nearby stream, with meager success. Knowing her blond hair coupled with her broken Trigedasleng would be a dead giveaway, she resorted to smearing the blood of her prey into her hair. It didn’t matter next to all the other grime and dirt covering her.

After a short wait she saw an older man leave the outpost and walk into a shed, coming out minutes later with a horse in tow. He secured a pack on its back and mounted it. He called something out into the direction of the house and a younger woman appeared. She replied something in Trigedasleng and waved him off. Clarke had been coming here for the last two months and knew the older man to be the owner of the outpost and the younger woman to be his daughter. The man never left when there where customers inside. Being this close to nightfall she took her chance and as soon as the rider was gone, she started to collect her belongings and made her way over to the house, her bounty in tow.

She pushed the worn door open, being greeted by the warmth of a fire flickering in the fireplace and the smell of cooked meat. Clarke pulled the cat into the rather big room and took a careful look around, eyes landing on the blonde merchants daughter Niylah.

Niylah raised an eyebrow, a look of surprise and awe on her face as she looked at the stretcher behind Clarke “ _Good spoil._ ” “ _Thank you. The usual supplies_ ” Clarke said, both women forgoing a greeting. Niylah came around to take the stretcher. _„This is worth more than your usual. Take a look around.”_ Starting to pull it towards the back room, she stopped giving Clarke a knowing look over her shoulder. _“You know, you always seem to appear just after my father left.”_ Turning around fully to smile at Clarke: “ _Good Timing.”_

_“I’m in a hurry.”_

_“Right, as always”,_ Niylah said while disappearing into the backroom, not waiting for Clarke to reply. Clarke took a moment to look around the room. Maybe she would find a few useful items she could include in their trade. She walked across the room picking up knickknacks here and there, when suddenly she stood face to face with another woman. Her heart jumped and her hand went to the knife in her belt before the realization hit her that the dirty, grim looking woman with crusty hair looking back at her was her reflection. She relaxed the hand on her knife taking a step closer to the old tarnished mirror. She could barely even recognize herself. Her cheeks were sunken in, dark circles under her eyes and she looked scanty. The last time she had examined herself in a mirror, the person staring back had bright blond hair and was about 25 pounds heavier, healthier. The last months of living outside, scavenging for food and sleeping only when her body gave out had taken its toll.

When Niylah reappeared she pulled herself away from her reflection and turned to the women carrying a box. Niylah dropped it on a nearby table. _“The meat from your last bounty. Dried and salted, minus our share.”_ She pulled out a bottle of clear liquid and placed it next to the box. _“What’s that?”_ Clarke asked her eyes narrowing. _“Something to drink while I get your supplies.”_ Niylah replied, already drawing out a cup and pouring Clarke a healthy serving. Clarke reached to take the cup, when her gaze fell on the bracelet the women had closed around her wrist. It was one of the tracing bracelets from the Ark and Clarke recoiled her hand, felling the phantom cold, closed around her own wrist. Her mind started reeling about the implications. _Where did she get this?_ If Niylah noticed her hesitation, she didn’t comment on it. She rather placed the cup slowly and deliberately in front of Clarke, tuned towards the backroom again and gave Clark a small smile. _“I’ll hurry up with the rest.”_

As soon as she was out of the room, Clarke took the cup and sniffed it carefully. She scrunched up her nose before downing the strong brew with two gulps. Suppressing a cough, she felt tears spring to her eyes. It tasted like Jaspers moonshine. _Jasper. Jasper holding Maja dead body cradled to his chest, screaming at her. Surrounded by more dead bodies than she could count, all starring at her with blank eyes._ The world started to go fuzzy around the edges, her stomach felt queasy. She pressed her hands onto her eyes, shaking her head. Not now, she would not be able to handle this right now. She took a trembling breath and tried to push down her feelings.

When Niylah came back with her supplies she barely had herself under control again. _“What have you decided on? I told you, you get more this time. Have your pick.”_ Clark missed the small smirk the grounderwoman threw her way as she came up next to here. She took a grounding breath turned around to her and griped her wrist just below the bracelet and held her hand up. _“Tell me about this.”_

The door burst open and two grounder warriors walked into the trading outpost. Clarke’s eyes widened, as she dropped Niylahs hand. She did not hear them coming, she had let her guard down. She turned away from the door, her mind racing. They had already seen her and one of them was still standing next to the door, while the other strolled into the room. There was no way to get past him without rising suspicion. Her only option was to try and look as normal as possible, as if she belonged here. Turning further away from the man walking towards them she took a couple of steps towards the closest pile of furs and picked one up, as if to check its quality.

Niylah stepped behind the counter, only glancing towards Clarke once and turned to face the man. He had long dark hair, black stripes painted all over his face and a machete strapped onto his back. “ _You got something to trade?_ ”, she asked the man in a neutral tone. He ignored her question. His eyes scanned the room, then finally settled on Clarke. _“I asked you something.”_ He turned around, looking at Niylah looking for a moment before his eyes flickered back towards Clarke, who meanwhile had picked up another fur and held it up in front of her. She conveniently was covering herself from his view by pretending to be checking for holes.

The man slowly pulled something from his pocket and handed it to Niylah. Clarke lowered the fur a fraction peering over the edge to see what he was showing. _“Have you seen this woman?”_ It was a piece of paper with a sketch on it. Without clearly seeing it in the dimly lit room Clarke still was sure who was being depicted. A picture of herself. The two men who walked in and now blocked her exit were bounty hunters. Looking for her. Looking for Wanheda. She tried stop herself from flinching and remained calm. Clarke forced herself to keep her hand off her knife and picked up another fur. Glancing around the room again, eyes flickering between the man showing the picture and the one at the door, she calculated her chances. Readied herself for the ensuing fight. _“This is not a good portrait.” “So you have seen her.”_ Clarke closed her eyes for a second, took a deep breath and got ready to fight for her life once more. Hand slowly glided towards her knife.

“ _She was here two days ago. Traded me this._ ” Niylah held up here bracelet. _“She said she was headed toward Edens Pass up north.”_

_“Azgeda, we need to hurry!”_ The deep voice of the man by the door had the longhaired man turning and his eyes followed him out the door. Clarke threw a quick glance towards Niylah. She looked calm and looked at the man still in front of her with an open expression. After a last lingering look in Clarke’s direction he turned towards Niylah with a calculating expression. _“Thank you. You have helped us more than you can imagine.”_ And with that he turned and followed the other man outside.

Clarke held her breath for another moment, before releasing an audible sigh. Her knees threatened to buckle under her weight. She turned towards Niylah, walked up to her and asked her with an astonished look on her face: “ _How long have you known?”_ Niylah in turn gave her a small smile. _“How long have you been coming here?”_ Clarke looked at her for a long moment before giving her a small grateful nod, then turned around to grab her supplies on the counter.

“I would wait.” The sudden switch to English had her stop short. She looked up at Niylah, surprised again. “Give them a chance to clear out.” The older woman placed the cup in front of Clarke again, looking at her with a knowing look. “Have a drink.” “Why are you helping me?” Clarke asked perplexed, maybe a little too loud and fast. Niylah looked at the floor and took a moment before answering “My mother was taken by the mountain, you ended the reaping.” She gave Clarke a small nod before taking the bottle and headed towards the backroom once more. “Have a seat by the fire and warm up a little. I’ll get you something to eat.”

Clarke picked up the cup from the counter and walked towards the fireplace. She all but collapsed on a chair in front of the fire and stared into the cup. ‘My mother was taken by the Mountain.’ _Cages, hundreds of them. People screaming, moaning, crammed into the small places. Anja hanging from the ceiling, chained up by her ankles, blood slowly running out of her into clear tubes. The smell of blood, dirt and feces hanging heavily in the air. The corpses down in the mines. Reapers ripping the flesh of delirious half dead grounders._ One of them had been Niylahs mother.

‘You ended the reaping.’ _Jasper screaming at her, crying over Mayas burned body. Burned flesh. Mayas father, the people who had helped them. Dead and burned along with children and every single person living in the Mountain. Stepping over burned bodies covering every part of the floor. They all seemed to be looking at her with dull glassy eyes, their open mouths frozen in an endless silent scream._

“Here you go.” Clarke flinched and was pulled out of her thoughts as Niylah suddenly appeared next to her with a plate filled with cooked meat, half a loaf of bread and some cheese. “ _Mochof“_ Clarke said and reached out for the plate but hissed when the movement reminded her of the claw marks on her shoulder. The smile on Niylahs face was replaced by a look of worry as she saw the wet bloodstains slowly soaking through Clarkes jacked. “You are bleeding.” “It’s nothing. The cat didn’t drop dead just because I asked it to.” Clarke replied with a forced smile. “Eat, afterwards I will take a look at it.” She sat next to Clarke and stared into the fire, seemingly lost in her own thoughts while Clarke had her first hot meal in a couple of days.

When Clarke was done eating, the plate was still half full, her stomach however was acing from the unusual large amount of food. “Come with me, I will clean your wound.” Niylah said, already getting up and gesturing towards a door behind the counter Clarke hadn’t noticed before. “You don’t have to. I will just leave, but thank you. For everything.“ “Clarke, come.” She replied with a voice that left no room for arguing. Clarke was stunned again by the use of her name. It sounded foreign to her ears. Nevertheless she pushed herself up and with a last look towards the door, followed Niylah. She led her into a room that was obviously the private living quarters of the merchants. “Over there is clean water and something to dry off. You have clothing in your pack?” Niylah asked with a nod towards the pack Clarke was carrying. Clarke nodded. “I will lock up the shop and leave you to it.”

Clarke was grateful for the privacy. She shrugged off her jacket and shirt and started to scrub off weeks of dirt from her skin. She could not remember the last time she had a bath. The weather had been getting continuously colder since she left the camp. And while living without a fixed shelter, never knowing where she would spend the night, she hadn’t been too keen on jumping in freezing lake. She had learned to live with being filthy. It helped keeping the few people she met at a distance.

Mindful of her injured shoulder and hair she systematically worked in silence. She decided against washing her hair. It would be a hassle having to dye it again afterwards. When she was done, the water in the bucket was muddy, almost black. But Clarke felt cleaner than she had in a long while.

A knock on the door had her reaching for her top before she replied “Come on in, I’m done”. The grounder woman opened the door, holding a bowl and a clean cloth in her hand, and made her way towards the bed. She set down her utensils and looked at Clarke questioningly. Clarke walked towards her and took a seat on the side of the bed looking up at Niylah unsure. “Your shoulder?” she asked softly. Clarke nodded, took a deep breath and turned away from her.

Niylah did not say anything when she saw the four angry looking claw marks. The flesh was torn but the cuts did not seem too deep. Silently she sat behind Clarke and dipped the cloth into the wooden bowl, which contents smelled faintly of herbs. “The cat got the worst of it” she said, while she pressed out the excess water and then started to clean the cuts around the edges. Clarke smiled at the sentiment but tensed as she felt the woman touch her back and willed herself to relax into the touch. It has been forever since someone touched her. The last instance she could remember had been Bellamy hugging her before she left the camp for good. _Begging her to stay_. _“If you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you. I forgive you Clarke!”_ _She did not deserve forgiveness._

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the soft careful touches. Niylah stroked her hair to the side, her hand lingering on the part where shoulder meets neck. The Woman hummed and said more to herself “No kill marks.” Clarke clenched her teeth and pulled her shoulders up slightly. She knew about the grounder tradition to mark every enemy you killed with a scar on your chest or back. They wore them as a badge of honor. Clarke thought about the mountain and the drop ship, fighting back the instinct to close herself off. With a slight turn of her head she replied “My back is not big enough.” Niylahs hand faltered for a moment before she picked the soft cleaning strokes back up again. “Tell me about the Mountain.” _Steel and concrete corridors, the control room._ “There is nothing to tell. I did what I had to, that’s all.” “That’s all? You killed our greatest enemy!” Niylah said with disbelief and awe in her voice. “You wiped them out all by yourself!” _Burned bodies, dull eyes, silent screams. The switch. “Together.” “Why! I was about to save them. I could have saved them”._ Clarke whipped around and pressed out between clenched teeth “Niylah would you mind not talking”. The women pulled back, looking hurt and unsure of herself. She turned, making an effort to busy her hands with the bowl and cloth and readied herself to get up and leave Clarke be. As soon as she did Clarke already missed her hands on her skin. The onslaught of memories, starting to blend together and making the word go fuzzy again. Clarke felt disoriented and her chest tightened. The one thing that had kept her grounded so far was the soft touch of Niylah. “No. Stay.” Clarke all but stammered out, reaching for the comforting hand and placing it on her shoulder again. Niylah looked her in the eyes, searching for something. Clarke starred right back, hoping to find something in the dark eyes, anything but the panic seeping slowly into her, ready to overwhelm her.

Clarke reached out, grasping Niylahs neck and pushed her fingers into the blonde hair, pulling her closer. Their lips meet in a soft and light touch. As soon as Clarke felt the other woman lean into the kiss she deepened it. She pushed her back onto the bed, straddling her hips and met her in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue. Desperation, need and the frantic attempt to feel something. Niylah moaned into the kiss and reached out to touch Clarke, stroking up her arms and down her back. Down towards her hips and grabbing her butt. Pulling the younger woman down hard, while bucking her own hips up to meet Clarke. It was Clarkes turn to moan and she sat up, pulling her top over her head. She threw it off the bed, not caring where it would land. All she wanted, was the touch of those soft caring hands on her, to feel wanted, to feel whole and safe, to be deserving of it. _Concrete walls. Hands touching her. Him kissing her. Feeling safe. “I wanted it to be you”. His lips on hers as she pushed the blade deep into his stomach. Ravens screams._ Clarkes whimpered and pulled back slightly, suddenly it was all wrong, it was too much and still not enough. Niylah noticed that something had changed and used Clarkes distraction to flip them over, hovering over Clarke looking into her eyes, her hair shielding them from the room. _Golden eyes. Grey eyes. Dead eyes._ “Clarke, stay with me.” Clarke shook her head, willing the images away. “Please” she said in a breathy pained voice. “Just … Please”, bucking her hips.

Niylah leaned down closing the remaining distance, brushing her lips against Clarks with surprising gentleness. A gentleness that wasn’t enough for Clarke. She weaved her hands into Niylahs hair pulling her down fully on top of herself. Niylah in turn slotted one of her legs between Clarkes, staring to move against her. Clarke moaned into the kiss as she felt the friction between her thighs, thrusting up her hips in time to meet the other woman’s movements. Leaning up on her left arm, Nyiylah used her right to stroke up from Clarkes hip over her tightening stomach up to her breast. She cupped the soft flesh in her hand, kneading it. Clarke felt her nipples tightening at the grounders explorations. That feeling coupled with the rhythmic rocking of her hips had heat pooling in her gut and she felt herself getting wetter. She responded by tightening the hands in Niylahs hair and grinding herself harder on the offered leg, intensifying the friction. Niylah moved her lips away from Clarks towards her neck, nibbling and kissing along the soft skin until she reached her ear. She licked along the shell before whispering in a low, rough voice. “Let me make you feel good.” Clarke whimpered unable to respond coherently. Niylah unhurriedly mouthed and kissed a path down towards the unattended breast and circled the pebbled nipple with her tongue, before pulling it into her mouth. She sucked it gently then started to bite it softly, while pulling and carefully twisting the other nipple between her fingers.

When she seemed satisfied with her work she moved to lay completely between Clarkes legs, who in turn whined as her hips tried to chase the delicious friction. Niylah smiled and wiggled further down, lips passing over her quivering stomach. Her hands leaving Clarks breast as they made their way down towards the outside of her thighs stroking up and down the firm muscles in a calming gesture until her hands found the waistband of Clarkes pants. She hocked her fingers in, stroking along her hips towards the beginning of soft curls just underneath the button of Clarke’s pants. She stopped, her fingers closing around the fastening of the pants, looking up at Clarke questioningly. Clarke held her gaze for a short second before nodding and lifting her hips off the soft furs. Niylah pulled her pants and undergarment down the slightly trembling legs. Clarke, suddenly aware of her nakedness, pulled one leg up, closing her legs, one hand coming up to cover her chest. Niylah kneeled in front of Clarke, eyes ghosting over her skin while her hand softly gripped Clarke’s outer thigh, painting small circles with her thumb. “You are beautiful.” She breathed against Clarkes knee before placing a small kiss there as to attach the word to her skin. The younger woman relaxed slightly and opened her legs reaching her hand out towards Niylah, pulling her over herself once more. Their lips found each other again, soft at first but growing messier, full of need and desperation. Giving wordless affirmation, and helping Clarke ground herself, until all she could feel was the desperate pulsing between her thighs. Her hips once again chanted up, looking for friction. Niylah kissed her way down Clarkes body for a second time, only stopping at her breast to scrape her teeth over an aching nipple. Her lips followed down the rise and fall of rapidly extending and decreasing rips. Clarke worried her lip between her teeth to stop herself from lifting her hips as the other woman reached her curls. Niylah placed a last open mouthed kiss above them, before gliding even lower. The younger woman felt a hand slowly stroking up between her legs encouraging her to spread them even further as the other hand rested reassuringly on her hip. She looked down just in time to see the blonde, tousled braid disappear between her legs before she closed her eyes and let out a guttural moan, as the soft tongue made its first soft sweeping pass over her wet and acing flesh. She spread her legs wider, angling her hips up to meet the next sweep of Niylahs tongue as she felt more than heard, the grounder woman moan at her taste. When Niylah found her clit and first started to lick then softly sucked on it, she lost all her remaining self-control and began chasing the feeling of need twisting in her tightening belly. Not caring about anything other than making the feeling last, she twisted her hand into the loosening braid, holding Niylah close to where she needed her most and ground her clit into the willing mouth. “Please” she moaned over and over again, feeling herself getting closer and closer to release. She felt the hand on her hip glide up to knead her breast once more and she lifted her back of the furs. Tight as a bowstring she froze, every muscle locked in place until she felt Niylah suck her clit into her mouth, scraping her teeth softly over strained the bundle of nerves. White crashed over her, wave after wave of pleasure engulfed her as she rode out her orgasm, knuckles turning white in Niylahs hair.

When she came down, she slowly loosened her hand and felt Niylah smile and place a last kiss on the apex of her thigh. The grounder woman came up to lay next to Clarke and moved her hand to cup her neck, kissing her sweetly. The taste of herself on the other woman’s lips had Clarke moaning into the kiss and send another jolt of excitement straight down to her core. She felt warm and as if she was floating, mind blissfully blank, muscles relaxed and tingling softly from the blood rushing back into her limbs. She ended the kiss with a last lingering touch of their lips and sighed quietly as she rested her head on the other woman’s shoulder. “Thank you.” She breathed out, still feeling a little out of it. “Do you want me to ...” her words trailed off, betraying her own inexperience as she blushed and gestured vaguely down Niylahs body. “Let’s just stay like this for a moment.” Niylah smiled at Clarke and pressed a small kiss on her forehead, feeling the younger woman relax into her side. Her breath deepened and her eyes drifting close only moments later. For the first time in months her mind had quieted down and she could rest peacefully.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic and it is ridiculous how excited I am for you to read this! I have been an avid reader for probably the last 10 to 12 years, but until now I never felt like I had a story worth telling. One that did not already exist somewhere. That is until I came around to watch 'The 100' this last month (I know I'm like soooooo late to this party) and found this ship so underrepresented.   
> Big thank you to all the people I annoyed with my excitement and to my girlfriend, who splitted hairs with me over sentences and Oxford commas (not to mention my horrible spelling).   
> I would love to hear what you think, an thank you for your time. I hope you found it well spent. 
> 
> Best of wishes  
> Pyraa


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